


Halo Over Lovers

by merewiowing



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: (if vaguely), F/F, L'Arachel's Religious Beliefs, Morning After, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-12 23:59:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7954138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merewiowing/pseuds/merewiowing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A morning in a shared tent, and the small issue of dressing up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Halo Over Lovers

As she watched L’Arachel get dressed, Eirika wished she could preserve the moment somehow. She had never considered herself slow to wake up or rise from bed, but lately she found herself stalling just so she could admire the way L’Arachel mindlessly tied her hair up.

This morning was no different. The inside of her tent (Eirika was still uncertain if it was _their_ tent, it was all so new) was warm, and the camp around them was still quiet; it was almost easy to forget what awaited them during the day, and what she had to prepare for. With a small sigh, Eirika pushed the blanket aside and sat up, her eyes searching for where her clothes ended up last night.

L’Arachel, for her part, was almost ready – all she had left were her gloves. Before she started pulling them on, though, she turned around and smiled, as if to say _finally_. It hadn’t been surprise to Eirika that the other princess was always eager to spring up from under the blankets and run out to start on her holy and heroic agendas of the day. The fact that L’Arachel was so happy to tease her about it, however…

Before Eirika could do anything more than smile back, L’Arachel stepped closer and sat down next to her. This close, it was plain that she had been asleep recently; her eyelids still hung heavy, and there was a slowness to her movements that Eirika wouldn’t have been able to notice only a few days ago.

Reluctantly, she stood up, and stretched, hoping to shake out the heaviness off her bones.

It took Eirika no time to locate her clothes and put them on; a couple of months ago she would never have imagined how quickly she could get ready to march. Her armour, however, eluded her. She turned to L’Arachel, who by now had pulled her gloves on all the way up to the elbows and was sitting on the bedroll like if it was the most comfortable chair.

“L’Arachel, have you seen –“

“To the left of the entrance, under my riding cloak.” L’Arachel pointed in the indicated direction with her chin. “I apologise for being so careless with it, but given the circumstances, I think you will forgive me.”

The circumstances of L’Arachel’s cloak being tossed aside so carelessly had been, indeed, more than forgivable. With a quick thank you, Eirika knelt down where she was directed, recovered the pieces of her armour, and began to put them on.

She was surprised when, after having finished, she turned around and found L’Arachel looking at her intently and with unashamed curiosity. Her hands flew to check the clasps, thinking she made a mistake somehow – maybe she wasn’t as capable as she thought earlier—

L’Arachel laughed softly.

“Eirika, everything is in perfect order. I was just wondering if it’s very troublesome for you to wear all that.”

‘Troublesome’ was not a word Eirika would have ever used to describe her armour.

“It was heavy at first, I suppose. I’ve long gotten used to it.” She paused and looked at L’Arachel’s clothes carefully – at how delicate and thin they looked compared to even what she wore herself. “I’m more surprised you choose not to wear any.”

“Of course I don’t! I wouldn’t be able to be a secret agent of justice if I clanked everywhere I went,” L’Arachel stated like it was the plainest, most obvious thing in the world. “I’m sorry, I mean no offence, but Saint Latona’s protection is all I’ve ever needed, and has not failed me yet.”

“Do you truly think the Saint can ward you from every stray arrow?” Eirika wouldn’t be surprised if L’Arachel did, and she had seen her incredible luck. However, as much as she wished to, she couldn’t place as much faith in the divine.

L’Arachel simply shrugged.

“I’ve come this far with little trouble, and I have felt the Saint’s presence by me many times. I believe I am safe, as are those close to me.” She stood up and brushed the front of her dress. “Besides, even if I agreed to dress like knights do, we could hardly find suitable armour for me in these circumstances.”

The worst part about disagreeing with L’Arachel was how often she was right, under all the flowery and sometimes bizarre arguments she made.

“Just promise me you’ll stay away from the front-lines,” Eirika said, putting her right hand on L’Arachel’s shoulder. It felt thin and delicate. “Better make the Saint’s work easier, right?”

**Author's Note:**

> *submits something late to their own event* ayyy lmao
> 
> the prompt this was inspired by is, quite obviously, 'armour', and the title is borrowed from the poem 'commemoration' by wisława szymborska. i had hoped to turn in something longer, but unfortunately, circumstances said otherwise. i hoped you liked it, though!


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